In the Hours of Night
by CrossingTheBoundary
Summary: Francis forgets a day of significance. Matthew goes back on an old promise. When things get even worse with a certain German interfering, can they forgive each other or is their relationship ruined for good?
1. Chapter 1

A door clicked in the thick silence of the house as someone returned home in the late of night. Small, light footsteps attempting to be hidden, padded on the wooden floor of the stairs. A faint creaking could be heard when he stepped on certain areas. Finally, he arrived at the master bedroom door, opening it ever so quietly, as to not disturb the even quieter Canadian who could possibly be sleeping inside. Upon reaching the bed, he ever so slightly pulled back the bed comforter, seeking a petite form. Finding no such person, he scratched his head in thought through his wavy blonde hair.

"Matthew?", Francis whispered almost inaudibly, in search of his absent lover. His blue eyes scanned the darkness of the room for violet, and only then did he notice the soft, yellow light emitting from the crack of the bathroom door. In curiosity, he moved closer, tiptoeing as he did. As he neared the white door, he could he muffled whimpers and sniffles. Thoughts of a crying Canadian Matthew entered his mind, swirling around and worrying him. His knock that turned out to be a tap, along with a call of his boyfriend's name came next. No sound at all followed. No whimpers and sniffles. No creaking, footsteps, or clicks. Again he tapped. Again he gained no answer. Sighing in frustration, he mumbled a concerned 'I'm coming in' and pushed open the surprisingly unlocked bathroom door.

The sight he was met with wasn't one he expected, but he certainly wasn't surprised. Nonetheless, he felt his heart plummet at what he saw. There, in the farthest corner of the room, sat Matthew, body in a ball, head in his arms. Francis could clearly tell he was the one who'd been crying seconds before, Matthew seemed to be choking back those heavy sobs. Next to him, a wooden box stood on the white tiled flooring. Francis recognized the engravings on the side, and was almost immediately brought to tears. The only thing that could make him cry harder was the sight of what was on the other side of the box, a few bloodied razors and several ripped scraps of lined paper written on in familiar handwriting.

At the sound of Francis' weeping, Matthew curled up into an even tighter position, letting his own tears spill. The two stayed that way for a while, with Francis leaning on doorway for support, and Matthew by the sink. After the five minutes that seemed like an eternity, Francis managed to croak, "W-why, Matthew?"

Matthew lifted his head the slightest bit, but his eyes were still casted downward. He couldn't bring himself to answer, nor did he desire to. At that, the taller of the two sighed shakily, walking very slowly, carefully toward his partner. Kneeling down right in front of him, he gently pulled Matthew's arms to him. Francis pushed up the sleeves of the red sweatshirt, revealing the scars, both ancient and fresh. He'd seen the older ones before, when the two had first started dating, about three years back. That was when he discovered the self-harm Matthew was inflicting upon himself. That was when he crafted that box specifically for that purpose.

On the night Francis first caught him in the act, Matthew was found in the same situation as this. In the corner, with a wooden box in tow. In the box were two blades; Matthew held the last to his pale wrist. Both males gaped at whichever sight fate threw at them. Francis' eyes watered, realizing what was going on. Matthew wept louder in fear of the disgust his secret love might show to him. They both were frozen, none trying to hide the tears streaking their faces. They stayed like that until Francis pulled the small teen into a warm, heartfelt embrace. By then, he had stopped crying and gained the sense that Matthew needed someone to hold at this time. Never in his life had he been so right, Matthew certainly needed that loving reassurance. Words of comfort were exchanged and Francis rocked the boy to sleep in his arms. He sat there glaring at the box of razors until he came to a decision and brought the Canadian to bed. Francis made his way into the bathroom, retrieving the box and blades and heading downstairs. There, he took a knife, and after returning all three razors to the wooden container, carved loving phrases of support and encouragement on all four sides. If you looked, you could see 'I love you' and 'you're not alone' on it. Then, with a pen, he cautiously wrote more of those sweet sayings on little pieces of paper. Those little pieces were the ripped up scraps Francis saw as he deliberately placed kisses to all the scars visible on both of Matthew's arms.

"Matthew, mon amour, why?", he begged, wondering what could've happened that caused Matthew to go against the promise they made years ago. The day after he caught him, Francis made him vow not to cut again, not to harm himself. That was the day they first went out. That was the day Francis presented the newly renovated box.

Matthew found it impossible to hide his tears any longer, and they streamed down his cheeks as he gazed up at him, looking into his eyes for the first time in a while. At seeing the distress reflected from them, he felt all the more guilty. He knew it wasn't his fault though, Francis' actions were what triggered him to do so.

When the crying was reduced to occasional hiccups, Matthew spoke, "F-Francis, do you know w-what today is?"

The French man's eyebrows knotted in confusion. 'It's Friday, doesn't Matthew know? I just came back from drinking with Antonio and Gilbert, just like I always do every Friday night.'

"Of course, Matthew, it's Friday," he replied, baffled.

Matthew's tear stained face displayed shock and what Francis could make out as pain. It also appeared that he was fighting off something, like he refused to believe it. "Y-yes, but what Friday?", he pleaded.

Francis, head still utterly puzzled, could not piece together what the other blonde was getting at. "The 21st, today is Friday the 21st. May I ask why it's so important to you?"

At that question, Matthew's heart stopped and his eyes widened.

'How could he have forgotten? How?', he brokenly inquired in his mind. He could feel more drops hastily slip down his already soaked cheeks, wetting his sweatshirt even more than earlier.

He tugged his arms away from Francis' grasp, instantly missing the warmth as he did. Warily, he collected the torn papers and let them fall into the box. Unsteadily standing, he dropped the box in the garbage and slid the razors into his pocket. Francis watched him as he did it, unsure of how he should go about it.

"M-matthew, just what are you doing?"

The one he called out to simply shot him a grieved expression as he staggered past him.

"Jerk," he whispered, "You forgot,"

XXX

Guess what guys, I'm not dead! School has been the worst lately, and I've barely had time to do anything with the fics I'm trying to get out. Despite that, I found the tiniest slot of time to write 1175 words for you. Not much, but it's something. This will also be my multi-chapter fanfic that I have been talking about writing. I feel proud of what I've done so far, even if you guys don't like it. Therefore, I DO feel like making it longer and explaining everything else. Hopefully the next chapter will be out next week, but there are no promises I can make. Consider this my present to you for the summer of 2014.


	2. Chapter 2

Francis was absolutely muddled. What could he have possibly forgotten? 'It's not Matthew's birthday, which was on July 1st. Today is August 21st, an ordinary day of no significance. There's nothing that could've slipped past my mind. I didn't overlook any dates with him; or did I? Come to think of it, August 21st does seem to ring a bell of familiarity.' The French man pondered the idea for another minute until it finally hit him with a huge pang of guilt. It was their anniversary, the day they first began dating each other. He asked himself how he could have forgotten, he was literally just thinking of it.

Francis came to a decision that he needed to apologize, as soon as possible. Down the stairs he bolted, after discovering that the other male wasn't in their shared bedroom. His eyes darted frantically in search of the blonde beauty that was Matthew as he arrived at the bottom of the steps. His heart rate noticeably quickened at the fear of his boyfriend gone, out of the house, and possibly his life. However, Francis heard the softened sobs from outside in the rose garden they kept well. He could feel his heart clench at the thought of a crying Matthew alone, in the dark, curled up close to a tree.

He gently slid the glass door to the side and stepped barefoot into the soft grass of the garden. There, he scanned wherever was visible for any sign of his boyfriend. His eyes halted when he spotted a foot peeking out from behind a large-trunked tree that looked an awful lot to be like Matthew's. There, he headed.

"Matthew," he quietly called, coming closer to the figure by the oak. He heard slight shuffling and brought himself to move faster. Seeing a small character struggling to get away, Francis' brow furrowed. 'Why's he limping? Did something happen?', he thought in alerted worry.

"Matthew," Francis said again, this time with more authority. That seemed to get him to stop. He turned around, his eyes meeting with Francis' for a small second before he hastily averted them. It pained the older blonde to know that his own lover couldn't bear to look at him.

"What?", he spat rather harshly, though obvious he was holding back tears.

"I'm so sorry. I can't believe I let that of all things slip my mind,"

Matthew clenched his jaw.

"What? Do you even know what you forgot? Do you even realize what today is?", he shouted over the natural sounds of night.

"Yes! I do realize! It's August 21st, our anniversary!"

Right as he finished, the wooden grandfather clock inside the house struck twelve and a loud chime echoed through the house and outside the open door.

"Well, thank you for finally remembering, but it seems that it's already over!", Matthew shouted at a surprising volume, huge teardrops rolling off his face. He fell to his knees, fogged up glasses dropping to the grass next to him.

Francis, still a few feet away, walked and knelt down beside him. Next, he took up his chin in his fingers, bringing him to stare into his light blue eyes that reflected concern. With his free hand, Francis wiped away the fresh tears cascading down Matthew's face. Carefully wrapping his arms around the tiny, slender body frame, Francis picked him up with ease. He weighed barely anything at all. To that, Francis shook his head. He guessed Matthew probably hadn't eaten.

After sliding the door closed, he carried Matthew up the stairs and laid him down on the bed. He sighed, proceeding to the bathroom to clean up. This time, he chose to throw the blades out, instead of leaving them in the box. He realized that mistake from years ago.

"Matthew", he breathed, coming back into the bedroom with a first aid kit in hand. He found the other still clad in his sweatshirt, already sitting up in the bed.

"Hey, you're going to have to take this off," Francis motioned at the jacket with his eyes, setting the medicinal kit on the sheets.

With no reply, Matthew did so, allowing his arms to be bandaged by the other.

Tending to them, Francis spoke gently, "You promised,"

Silence.

"I know,"

Silence.

Avoiding his gaze, Matthew retorted, "You forgot,"

Silence.

"I know,"

Silence.

Finishing up with the wounds, Francis packed up the supplies and pushing them off to the side. Then, he discarded of his own shirt and pants, leaving him in only his boxers. He usually slept like this, it wasn't new. Francis got in beside Matthew, pulling the covers up as he did so.

Once completely settled, Francis questioned," How long?"

There was a temporary pause.

"What are you going on about now?"

"Don't play dumb with me, I saw. Not all the more recent scars were from today; not all the older scars were from three years ago. How long?", he ordered.

Another gap in conversation followed, then a shaky breath,

"Since last year. When you drunkenly kissed that girl at the bar," Matthew further explained.

"You said that didn't bother you," Francis guiltily uttered.

"But it did. You kissed another person – a woman no less – while we were together. You said you would quit the flirty actions when I agreed to go out with you, Francis. You said you would stop! How could I not be bothered!", Matthew raised his voice, letting himself reveal his true feelings.

"You accepted the apology," Francis tried, desperate to be free of blame.

"So I did. I let it go and tried to forget. Eventually I did, and you regained my full trust. However, that was shattered when you dropped an even bigger bomb to our relationship; you had sex with a woman from that same bar,"

Francis eyes widened.

"Didn't think I'd knew about that, huh? Well guess what? While you were off thrusting into her, you accidentally called me. How do you think I took it when I heard another person – a woman again – panting and moaning your name? I cut once more that night."

With the exception of Matthew's scarcely hearable whimpers, there was another break from noise.

"I began to question your words and promises of love and it got harder to believe your 'I love you's after that. At one point, I was actually convinced you asked me out because of pity. Do you even know how difficult it was to deal with all that? I bet you don't.

I was able to somewhat put that behind me after we made love the first time, I was so in bliss. It was our anniversary yesterday, and I thought maybe I'd be able to show you how much I'd loved you again. But earlier, when you instead went drinking, my heart was crushed. I tried to brush it off and force myself into thinking that you only used that as an excuse to go out and get a cake or something. But when you didn't come back, I knew you really had gone out. I attempted to let it go, but when an hour passed and you didn't answer your phone, guess what I thought of? It drove me to the blades again, and I cut more heavily than I usually would have,"

By this time, both men were equally sobbing and trying to regain their breath. It was quiet when they did.

"F-Francis, I don't know if I can do this anymore,"

XXX

I know I'm kinda late, but this was our last full week of school. I had some last minute tests and a musical to get done with.

Anyways, I did it! I wrote the second chapter! Hopefully I can get chapter three out by the end of next week. Then, as they follow, I can get one chapter done for each week. I won't have any camps to go to, so I might be able to do it. MIGHT.


	3. Chapter 3

"Matthew, mon cher, je suis désolé, vraiment désolé," Francis pleaded dreadfully, letting his native tongue slip.

"Non! I can't do this. I can't keep letting myself get hurt repeatedly. I want to heal. I want to stop the cutting and this is the only way I can think of," Matthew answered with confidence.

There was another period of stillness between the two that seemed to last an eternity. The only sound you could hear in the room was Francis training his mind to tame to frantic breath, to give himself something to do to numb the heartache. It had a small effect, considering just how much concentration it took to even out the heavy breathing. The too tranquil tension in the air bothered Matthew immensely. Long periods of silence reminded him of all the times he himself spent in isolation, away from everyone else. That was before the light shone in his world; before Francis came into his life. Matthew realized that without him, he'd probably be in an even worse situation then they were. Or if things were really bad, he might not have actually been alive. Just the thought brought forth a sudden wave of great terror. Despite all he had done to emotionally torture him, Francis was held preciously to much gratitude in Matthew's eyes.

"Francis, you know I love you, but I'm having trouble knowing the same from you," Matthew stated with a "matter of fact" sort of fashion.

"I understand that, but- ," Francis interrupted.

"You didn't let me finish," Matthew paused.

"Though this might leave me regretting things in the end, I am willing to give you one more chance. My faith in you has been weakened over time, but I am ready to reinvest that trust and rebuild this relationship. That is, if you can prove yourself to be worthy of another go," he challenged.

Francis, blinded by the joy of an additional chance, hurriedly agreed, shaking his head.

"Oui, Matthew! I will, I will! Thank you so much. I love you. Je t'aime, mon amour, je t'aime," Francis proclaimed his love again, turning over to place multiple chaste kisses to Matthew's cheeks, forehead, and lips.

"I better not want to go back on my word, Francis. I really am hoping this works out. Remember, this is your last chance. This means no other guys, no other girls, no other flirtatious words for another person besides me, got it?", Matthew confirmed, letting his hidden possessiveness leak into his tone and words.

"Yes, I get it,"

"Good…,"Matthew trailed off, yawning from exhaustion.

"Get some sleep, it's been a long day. You can wait until tomorrow to wash up and take a shower. Good night…Oh, and Matthew?"

There was a lazy hum in reply.

"I love you," Francis waited for even the slightest response, and when it didn't come, he was honestly a bit hurt. Until he heard soft, tired snores coming from Matthew. It was enough to make him smile.

As much as he pushed himself to, Francis could not find sleep. His thoughts ran through his mind, distracting it from finding a dream world to fall into. It abruptly occurred to him that not even an hour ago, he could've lost the love of his life. Matthew, his own sweet, adorable boyfriend could've been gone from him forever. He could've been in the arms of another. Perhaps Gilbert, he's had his eyes on him for a while, and the two were already really close friends. He continued to dwell on the 'what if's for a while longer until sleep eventually took him, lulling him into a dream where his boyfriend really was gone and with his best friend Gilbert.

XXX

Francis woke up with a start, covered in cold sweat. Beside him was Matthew, looking as perfect as ever, with an expression of apprehension adorning his angel-like face.

"Francis, are you okay? By the time I awoke, you were tossing and turning, sweating buckets, and screaming my name,"

The older man wore a helpless look before throwing himself onto the other.

"Matthew, mon Dieu, I thought I lost you!", he buried his head into said male's shoulder as he clung to him with a grip so strong, Matthew had to pound on his shoulder to release him before he ran out of breath.

"Francis, Francis! Calm down, I'm right here. Now will you tell me what happened, please?"

Francis took a minute to regain his breath, its pace quickened from the terror of a life without Matthew. Once he was able to do so, he explained, "Well, after you fell asleep last night, I began to ponder how different life would be if you hadn't given me a second chance and really left. Since I went to bed with that thought, I dreamt a dream where that was reality.

I was brought back to when I asked you out. Only, in the dream you rejected me. I was heartbroken, but I was able to ask why. You said that you'd rather go out with Gilbert, and that I was just a pedophilic rapist," Francis stopped after his voice cracked. That was one of the biggest and only things Francis really took to heart. He hated it when people called him that, just because Matthew was a few years younger than himself.

"I was forced out of your life after that, despite all the years we'd spent as friends. As much as it hurt me, I followed you and Gil everywhere just to see you again. Without you guys knowing, I came along on your trip to Disney World and rode every ride you guys did, always staying out of sight. I felt like a hardcore stalker, but at least it gave me the chance to see you without getting yelled at or something," Francis gave a dry laugh, as if to mock his pathetic dream self's actions.

"It continued like that for a long while, me going where you guys did, just in the shadows. I never got noticed, not once. But there was one time, you were sitting at home reading your novel on the sofa, curled up in a blanket just like usual. Gil was drinking beer in the kitchen, seemingly really angry from whatever shit happened at work. I watched afar from the window, just enjoying your changing expressions as you read on. But suddenly, there was a loud crash coming from where Gilbert was. Sharp shards of a broken beer mug flew. You twisted around, to check up on him, only to be pulled up by the hair by an enraged Gilbert.

My eyes widened in shock as I let a gasp slip from my mouth. I had to be a bystander and just witness what abuse your drunk off his ass boyfriend laid on you. He threw punches and landed kicks on your fragile body and I just watched it happen. I could hear insults I knew struck you hard from the open window and I did absolutely nothing. It was one of the most difficult choices to make, but I was able to build up my valor and burst through the door to come to your rescue.

I was all ready to fight Gilbert back, even with our friendship at risk. However, me showing up did nothing to help. Instead, it made things even worse when he accused you of being a dirty, cheating slut. I saw the tears well up in your eyes as you shouted at him to stop. But, I once again just stood there, frozen in fear. He threw you to the ground, knocking you out cold, He didn't stop there though. Nope, he kept up the cruelty. Gilbert climbed on you and straddled your hips, punching at your face, still blinded by fury. I think that was when I started screaming your name. I was completely terrified," Francis concluded, the smallest of tears slipping off his face.

Matthew was shocked at the degree of fear Francis was struck with from the nightmare, and could only bring himself to hug him, even if their relationship wasn't in the best condition. 'Oh well,' he thought. 'This reaction should only mean he cares about me more than I'd assumed. Maybe there still is some hope for us left,'

And in that moment, both men felt safe for once in each other's arms.

XXX

AH! I'm finally done! I did it. I'm pretty proud. I was able to write 1,397 words in about five hours. It's a new accomplishment for me! I hope you enjoyed this one. I haven't edited it, so there might be some mistakes. If there are just review or PM or something. Thanks for reading!

Translations:

Matthew, mon cher, je suis désolé, vraiment désolé. = Matthew, my dear, I'm sorry, so very sorry.

Non! = No!

Oui, Matthew! = Yes, Matthew!

Je t'aime, mon amour, je t'aime. = I love you, my love, I love you.

Mon Dieu. = My God.

I think that's it. Thanks again!


	4. Chapter 4

After tears were wiped clean, showers were taken, and beds were made, Francis and Matthew headed down the stairs, empty stomachs growling for food. It was an established routine that Matthew took responsibility for breakfast, with the exception of a few special occasions in which Francis insisted he cooked for them.

"Hey, you still look a bit shaken up. You okay?", Matthew questioned, his head barely tilting to the side in curious concern.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Shouldn't you be getting to fixing up some food? I know the both of us are hungry," Francis reassured with the tiniest smile Matthew could tell wasn't completely genuine. Though he wasn't fooled by the attempt to cover up those feelings, Matthew let it slide, not wanting to get into an argument this early in their stage of healing. He went on to sift through the cabinets, searching for the needed ingredients to make his worldwide known – quite literally might I add – pancakes.

Matthew finished before Francis did, and seeing that he was almost done, began to gather the dishes and bring them to the sink. It was also routine that Matthew washed the dishes clean, as well as any other household chores to do. He didn't mind it. After all, Francis was the one who provided for them. That included being the one to pay bills, and for that Matthew was very appreciative.

"Let me help you today," Francis said, placing his own plate and utensils under the warm running water.

"It's alright, I don't have too much to do," Matthew swept a look over the dirtied dishes.

"Please? I really am in need of something to distract my mind from yesterday's dream," Francis added, voice trailing off.

"I suppose. If it'll help you," the shorter blonde shrugged and scooted to the side, allowing more room for his boyfriend.

Nothing was spoken between the two as they soaped and rinsed. You were only able to hear the light clinking of the dishes touched. Or the occasional chirp of birds through the open window. The soothing quietness gave both men time to think of whatever crossed their minds. That they did.

'Goodness, I never would've guessed me leaving him would have such a huge effect. And to still be mulling over it even after a few hours? That sure must've been tough on him. I do hope he recovers from the shock. I assume this just leaves me with another purpose to stay and fix this relationship,' Matthew mentally reasoned with himself, handing a foamy fork to Francis, who in turn was contemplating the dream's angst-filled events.

"That's the last of them," Matthew announced, wiping his hands on a white kitchen towel.

Matthew's words snapped Francis out of his almost trance-like state of mind.

"Oh really? I didn't notice," he shook his head, deciding to clear himself of thoughts of Gilbert and Matthew. Then, he as well dried his hands. He slipped the rag back on the rack, and led the way to the living room. They habitually headed there after breakfast to hang out if they had nothing better to do.

Before either one of them could even reach for the remote controller, Matthew's phone rang, causing him to jump in surprise. Checking the caller ID, his face contorted as if he was torn between answering it or not.

"Aren't you going to pick that up?", Francis asked, plopping down on the leather sofa and turning on the television, beginning to surf through the channels.

"Y-yeah. I'll go in the other room so I won't disturb you," Francis just nodded, not really paying much attention as he found his most favored series was on.

Matthew scurried back to the bedroom as quick as he could and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Birdie!", the familiar voice came.

"Hi Gil," Matthew replied, unknowingly letting a smile fall on his face.

"Are you still coming over today?"

'Shoot, I forgot about that. I can't possibly go can I? How will Francis feel? Especially after last night…,'

"Hello? Matthew?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm not exactly sure if I can make it," Matthew declined apologetically.

"Really? That's too bad, I guess," the East German man uttered in a tone that made Matthew feel a whole lot guiltier than he'd expected.

"Well, auf wiedersehen, Matthew,"

"Wait, Gilbert! Don't hang up!"

"What? Why?"

"I suppose, I can still meet you. I'll see you then," Matthew gave in.

"Right! That's great! See you then," he hung up, his spirits brought up.

Matthew flung his phone at the bed's headrest, cursing himself loudly for not being careful. Just then, Francis ran in.

"Matthew! Are you alright? I heard a loud banging noise and hurried here! You're not hurt are you?" Francis shouted, out of breath and in a panic.

"No, I'm fine. Sorry for making you worry," Matthew could practically see the relief in Francis eyes as he sighed heavily.

"Thank the heavens, I thought you collapsed or something!"

"No, that's not the case….Hey Francis?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm going over the Gilbert's house later," he muttered incoherently, so Francis wasn't able to comprehend the last part.

"What? Where are you going? I couldn't understand you,"

Matthew sucked in a breath.

"I'm heading over to Gil's place later this afternoon,"

Francis paled.

"O-oh," was all he could muster as he turned back to the living room.

"I'm sorry," Matthew whispered to the unoccupied air before him.

XXX

Ay nako! Pakiramdam ko kaya nahihiya ngayon! This chapter is so short and late! I didn't want the real drama to happen in the same chapter though. I hope you guys can understand! GAHH, I'm so sorry!

Thank you for reading!

Translations:

Well, auf wiedersehen, Matthew. = Well, goodbye, Matthew.


	5. Chapter 5

Gilbert, stretched out lonely on his sofa, busied himself with his thoughts while he waited for Matthew to arrive. Those times when he was alone were most always used for some awfully serious thinking. 'I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with this. This whole issue is proving itself to be more difficult than I'd originally guessed. He's enthralling, and I can't help but fall hopelessly in love with him,' He looked out the window with an exhale, past the translucent curtains of Prussian blue, to see Matthew's black Mercedes pulling into the driveway. Immediately, the furrow of his brows left him, and his lips curled into a bright smile. Leaping off the couch, he sprinted to the door and slammed it open to reveal Matthew, hand raised to knock and a startled look upon his face.

"Birdie!", Gilbert exclaimed, pulling the other into a bear hug with great force.

"H-hey Gilbert," Matthew stammered, struggling for breath. He motioned for the albino to release him, or he'd have a dead body in his doorway.

With a single 'I'm sorry', Gilbert let him go, allowing the blonde to swallow air.

"No, it's fine," the Canadian accepted the apology, though his violet eyes gleamed with devastation. This didn't go unnoticed by the German.

"Mattie? You okay there?", Gilbert asked, caring kindness shining in his own eyes.

"Yeah, it's just… I've just been having problems with Francis lately," he admitted, gaze now downcast.

"Oh. Do you want to talk about it?", the older male enquired reluctantly, knowing that in the end he'd only get hurt himself.

"Do you mind?", Matthew wanted to confirm. He didn't want to intrude on Gilbert's time, only to fill it with his measly troubles. Despite that, he only received a slim crack of the lips as validation. A crack of the lips that he couldn't decipher as fake. It was only obvious to Gilbert that he wasn't able to, considering the fact that there was no hesitance when he began telling of his complications. By the time he was finished, it was well past seven o'clock and Gilbert had a pile of sobbing Matthew in his arms.

As much as it pained him to do so, Gilbert lifted his best friend's head with his thumb cradling his chin. He was able to see right through the striking male's eyes, into the abyss that was Matthew's soul. There, he saw stress, depression, and most of all, pain. His heart plunged at the sight. Gingerly, he swiped the tears from Matthew's cheeks with his sleeve, and once more pulled him into another embrace.

"I need to let go for tonight. Gil, do you have anything strong?", he requested a drink dejectedly.

"Ja, many. But, don't you need to get back to Francis?", he probed with a pang to his emotions and a crack in his voice.

"I know, I know. I'll just call him tomorrow morning, he'll understand. Can I sleep in the guest room? Is that fine with you?"

"No problem with that. However, I'm still a tiny bit wary of letting you stay here without calling to let Francis know. I mean, after hearing what you both endured, I'm worried about him. Even if the way he's probably thinking about me right now hurts. Even if he's the one you're really in love with…"

"Eh? What did you say? I couldn't understand that last sentence," Matthew asked with that cute lean of the head.

"Nothing of importance. Now let me grab some beer from the fridge," Gilbert covered his mistake with a lie and an excuse to leave.

XXX

"I can't believe that bastard!", Matthew raised his voice, very drunk. He didn't drink often, but when he did, there was no way he could hold his alcohol.

"Now I know you don't mean that. You love Francis deeply. Enough to give him a second chance," Gilbert reminded him, able to contain himself.

"Yeah! A second chance that's he's most likely blowing right now! He was probably waiting for me to leave the house and call up that slut he fucked last time! Hah! Imagine what they could be doing in our bed at this very moment. Francis, naughty, naughty Francis," Matthew giggled as he finished.

"I think you're wasted enough, Matthew. Let's go to bed," Gilbert shook his head.

"Oh yes! I'd love to get in bed with you, Gil," Matthew purred with a smirk.

Gilbert's hands clenched at the careless comment.

"Whatever, just come here so I can get you ready for sleep," he spat, knuckles by then turning pale. The out of sorts Canadian flew into his arms, playing with his soft hair as he allowed himself to be carried bridal style by Gilbert.

Once Matthew was undressed and tucked neatly under the covers, Gilbert leaned down to peck him on the forehead. All was well, except for the fact that Matthew had slightly different plans. He took Gilbert's face in his hands and crashed his lips onto the others. The usually mischievous European man's eyes widened in shock and pure terror. As much as he was enjoying it, he shoved the drunk but passionate male off of him.

"M-matthew!"

"What's wrong, Gil? You didn't like it? I'm hurt," Matthew mocked with a faux pout on his lips.

Gilbert was at a loss for words and kept his head hung low. Of course he wished to kiss him, but not while he was drunk. Not while he couldn't think straight. Not while he loved another. Gil wanted there to be genuine feelings of adoration. He didn't want Matthew for his body, although he did love it so.

"Hey, Gilbert," said male lifted his eyes.

"Have sex with me," he stated simply with a voice filled with evident lust.

There was a period of silence that followed for about a minute, until the words spoken finally registered in Gilbert's head.

"No. Now I'm positive you need to rest," he was able to speak calmly, even though his cheeks flared red.

"Fine, but not until you get your sexy ass in bed next to me," Matthew challenged, half-lidded eyes and all.

Sighing, Gilbert did as he was told, carefully restraining himself from ravishing the one he loved unrequitedly, and unshed himself of his own clothing. Then, he slipped right beside the other underneath the obsidian colored bedspread.

"Perfect. Good night, Gil," Matthew whispered contently before letting his eyelids droop.

"Yes, good night, Matthew. Gute nacht, mein liebe," he too murmured and drifted off to sleep.

XXX

"Gilbert, wake up!", Matthew shouted in unmistakable alert.

"Guten morgen," Gilbert stretched groggily, yawning as he did so.

"No, it's not a good morning! You and I both are for the most part naked! We woke up in bed together! I was drunk! We could've done something. Oh God, I need to call Francis! What will he think when I confess to him that I cheated on him? Drunk and with his best friend, no less!", Matthew went into a frantic state of hysteria.

"Matthew, Matthew! Calm down, we didn't do anything!", Gilbert lied straight through his teeth. Of course they had done something. Well, Matthew had done a thing. Gilbert didn't kiss back.

"How do you explain all this then?", Matthew, still in dread, cried.

"After I decided you needed to stop drinking, I brought you to bed and undressed you. No, I didn't do anything to you. You started going on about how you were down and lonely and wanted me to comfort you. I took off my clothes as well – it's how I normally sleep – and slid next to you. Nothing happened, I swear!", Gilbert deceived him again, hands up. Matthew spent two minutes tops to process everything and believe it. Still, he fretted over what took place only hours before. Inhaling and exhaling at a steady pace, Matthew threw his hands up, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that without knowing exactly what happened." he sighed. Gilbert shrugged, somewhat accepting the request for forgiveness.

"I don't know what to do. I think I just made this entire situation a whole lot worse," Matthew admitted, regret laced in his words.

"I'll be blunt; you undoubtedly did. But that doesn't mean it's done and over for you. Things can improve, but before anything else, you absolutely need to call Francis. Be honest with him and tell him only what really happened, whether you like it or not. Don't fuss, he'll very much appreciate the goodness of you telling him the truth," Gilbert advised, the hypocrite in him finding its way out. Matthew nodded, newfound confidence overflowing inside his heart.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you alone," Gilbert tossed Matthew his phone and headed out the guest room and into his own. There, he flopped down on his bed, letting his mind go into another serious thinking session.

'Did I really just lie to him? It was to help them both, right? I mean, they are two of my closest friends and I couldn't bear to lose them. It would be my fault if I did too…Why did I have to fall in love with Matthew? Why not Elizabeta? I know she was interested in me, before she got together with that stupid prick, Roderich,' Gilbert groaned to himself, shielding his tearing eyes from the incoming sunlight with his arm.

XXX

"Hello, Francis?", Matthew aversely spoke into the cell.

"M-matthew! Mon amour, where have you been? I nearly called the authorities to look for you! Oh, mon Dieu, I'm so glad you're fine. Where are you, I'll come pick you up!", Francis answered, sounding like he's been heavily crying.

"I'm at Gilbert's still, I never left," Matthew said slowly, as to delicately put it.

"You've been at his house this whole time," was all he could brokenly say in reply.

"Yeah… Don't worry about coming over, I can drive back. We'll discuss everything thoroughly when I get home, okay?"

Francis gave a hum to respond, attempting to make it sound like he was unbothered, unscathed. But, Matthew was able to tell that he wasn't as emotionally stable as he thought he could pull off. Before he could further mention it, the line cut off with a beep. Matthew set the phone down on the bed gently, stood up and began tidying up the room of his and Gilbert's clothes. He pulled his back on and folded the others into a neat stack. Finding his way to the master bedroom, a pile of clothing and a phone in his hands, he pushed the door open, not thinking to knock. Inside, he saw Gilbert with his arm over his face and tears cascading off his cheekbones. He was shocked. Never before had he seen the hyper man cry, not once.

"Gil?", he carefully treaded these waters with a voice so soft and soothing. Gilbert shot up out of his bed and wiped frenziedly at his eyes.

"H-hey Birdie, everything go alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be heading home now. Is that okay?"

"Of course, you need to get to repairing that bond between you! Now hurry on home!", Gilbert tried to convince him to leave, and fairly enough, it worked.

"I'll be off then. I'll let myself out. Bye, Gilbert," he bid him farewell.

As soon as he got out of the front door, Matthew sprinted to his car, putting his key in the ignition before he even had the chance to sit down. He needed to get back as quickly as possible, before Francis decided to do anything too reckless. He sped out of the neighborhood and onto the highway, nearly hitting another car, earning a nice loud honk and a serving of road rage. As soon as he parked the car, he ripped out his keys and tore to the door, unlocking it with trembling hands.

"Francis!", Matthew called stepping inside. He spotted his significant other on the couch, sitting almost lifelessly. He turned his head to look at Matthew, who could clearly see he'd been crying from his bloodshot, red eyes.

"Francis, I'm so sorry! You must've been so worried. Oh, I can only imagine what you thought of. I'm so, so sorry. Je suis désolé, je suis désolé," Matthew wailed as he ran to Francis and pulled him in tight. However, the French man didn't say anything in return. To that, Matthew sighed.

"I know what you're thinking, but to reassure you, we didn't do a thing. I swear," Francis lifted his eyes as to say 'go on'. So Matthew did.

XXX

I did it. I hit my goal of 2k for this chapter. I wrote 2100 words. This one chapter was five pages. Whew! Okay, so as you read, there was a lot of drama and stuff. I didn't want this chapter to drag out, so I just cut it off there. I guess I can write about it next week. I'm so tired though! Thanks again for reading. Drop a review, maybe?

Translations:

Ja, many = Yes, many

Gute nacht, mein liebe = Good night, my love

Guten morgen = Good morning

Mon Dieu = My God

Je suis désolé, je suis désolé = I'm sorry, I'm sorry


	6. Chapter 6

Gilbert didn't move from his place on the bed after Matthew left. He lay there, contemplating anything, everything. Questions starting with words such as 'why' or 'what' ran endlessly through his mind. Why didn't I take the chance to kiss him? What could've happened then? Why did I lie? What should I have actually done? He wanted answers, but he knew he wouldn't ever get them. This was a war in his own mind, a battle within himself. Forcing his body off the linen sheets and prying his mind out of the misery-filled confusion, Gilbert threw on his clothes and made for the stairs. After all, there was no use in spending a perfectly gorgeous day overthinking and falling further and further into depression.

'Only a fool would do so,' he thought as he fetched yet another drink, unknowing that that was exactly what Francis and Matthew were occupying themselves with.

XXX

"So you see, nothing really happened," Matthew encouraged with a trying smile. His hands ached from clenching and unclenching them whilst telling his story. His palms were red and marked up in the places where his nails dug in. You could tell that he was uneasy about Francis' reaction. It was obvious from his body's behavior. 'Does he believe me; or does he not?'

"You could be lying to save this relationship you so desperately want to save," Francis pointed out, attempting to keep his cool while a raging storm brewed inside him.

"But that's not how it is!"

"Then why didn't you come back? Why didn't you at least call me? I would've been hurt, but at least I wouldn't be having to deal with this!", Francis stopped to reclaim his breath after shouting so much.

"Do you even know how painful it was to watch you leave and not come back?", the taller spat in the other's direction.

Matthew was stunned at the remark. Did Francis seriously have _any_ right to say that to him?

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe this is how _I_ felt every time _you_ did something to make everything worse than it was?", Matthew seethed, though inside he was breaking and coming undone. His violet eyes were narrowed through his glass lens. Just then, Francis deadpanned and finally realized what he'd said. But before he had even the most miniscule chance to voice it, the front door slammed. Matthew had left, tears leaving a wet trail in his footsteps.

XXX

'How dare he,' Matthew cursed in his mind as he observed the little children playing on the swings in the park he found himself at. He let a quick thought of nostalgia pass him as he realized he ended up at the playground where he and Alfred spent a big part of their childhood. He contemplated calling his brother to see if he could stay over at his and Arthur's place. Matthew was almost certain they'd let him.

"Hello?", Alfred picked up the line, panting a bit. Okay, a lot.

"Hey," Matthew greeted.

"Hey, Matt. W-what's up?", he replied with an unstable breath.

"Can I spend the night there? You see, Francis and I aren't…," Matthew searched his brain for a good phrase to describe their current situation. "We aren't exactly on the greatest of terms,"

"That sucks man. Look, I would gladly welcome you any other time, but… Well, Artie and I are kind of busy. If you get what I mean," Alfred awkwardly said. There was no doubt he loved Matthew, but Arthur was making it really difficult not to stutter while he was on the phone. So much for the "gentleman" act.

Bright, crimson red, Matthew hastily expressed some words of farewell and hung up. 'So much for that… What can I do now?', he thought standing from the bench. Out of nowhere, someone bumped into him, letting out a very colorful choice of profanities. 'Oh, it's him,' Matthew assumed, looking up.

"Hey, Lovino," he offered.

"Oi, it's just Matthew. Sorry for that, I guess," Lovino glanced at him, the apology taking its toll on him and making him blush.

A while back, the two befriended each other due to how well they connected. It was quite easy for them to get along. They realized how much they really had in common. With Lovino often being overlooked and disregarded in favor of his brother, Feliciano, and Matthew being practically nonexistent to many, they clicked after getting to know each other. Lovino began to let down his guard for someone other than his boyfriend, Antonio. The other person was none other than Matthew and the two talked often; just not as of late. The last time they'd kept in touch was a month back.

"If I recall, it's been a long time since we last updated each other. Anything new? I mean, whenever I see you, Antonio's clinging to you. And from what I see, he's nowhere around here," Matthew asked suspiciously.

Lovino scoffed, but there was no bite in it. "Come on, I can say the same for you. Where's Francis?"

Matthew visibly winced, and Lovino instantly regretted mentioning the French man he loathed. Despite that, he needed to make sure his close friend was okay. Judging by the tense aura around him at the reference to Francis, Lovino thought not. He brought it up; he's not exactly the greatest at reading the atmosphere.

"You okay there? You kind of went rigid a bit when I said 'Francis'. You guys aren't doing well?", Lovino hit the target straight on. Letting himself sigh in minor exasperation, Matthew felt obliged to spill.

XXX

Matthew found himself heading home, after Lovino gave his surprisingly useful advice and pep talk. The normally grumpy Italian listened intently to Matthew's problems, not complaining a single time. When the blonde asked for assistance, Lovino's let his usual façade slip and give whole-hearted guidance. He told Matthew that he should apologize, for it wasn't only Francis that was entirely in the wrong. That was another reason why the two got along; they were able to trust one another to listen and advise.

Unlocking the front door, Matthew was astounded at the appearance of the home's interior. The books on the shelf were straightened into perfect lines, the tile was scrubbed clean, the laundry was folded with crisp edges, and overall, the house was entirely spotless. Every single thing was put back into its rightful area. 'He really didn't have to,' Matthew thought, a small smile on his lips, knowing that was Francis' way of saying sorry. As if on cue, Francis trudged down the staircase, groaning with each step he took.

"Hey, Francis," Matthew greeted, alerting the other with his presence.

"Hey," he replied with a weary, but hopeful expression.

"I see you're sorry, considering how sparkly the house is," the Canadian stated.

"Ah, yeah. I realized that you were right. I really had no right to say that to you, when in reality, it was the same as what I did to you during all those times. And really, I'm sorry for that," Francis apologized genuinely.

"You're a real jerk at times, and you hurt me a lot," Matthew remarked after a few seconds, making Francis feel on edge," but thanks to a feisty Italian, I'm feeling uncharacteristically sympathetic and understanding. He also pointed out that you weren't the only one at fault. So, I'm sorry. I knew that you probably hadn't experienced that kind of pain and anxiety, and lashed out on you because I had. Are you willing to accept me again?"

There was a short period that Francis used to process what his lover had said.

"Matthew! Why would you apologize to _me_? After what I had done, you're in no position to do so!"

"Is that a 'no' then?", Matthew questioned, his optimism faltering.

"N-no! I'm just trying to say that you really don't have any reason to ask for forgiveness. I was the one who didn't think about how you felt. _I'm_ the one who should be asking for _you _to take _me_ back!", Francis denied.

"Well, I'm not going to take back what I said about me being wrong as well, but I will take you back. That is, as long as you do the same for me," Matthew sheepishly negotiated.

"Oh, how can I not, you adorable, blushing, pancake-loving, Matthew?", Francis grinned, pulling the other in for a warm embrace, securing him there for a long time. Nothing could bother them. They were the only two in the world that mattered at the moment. And hopefully, it would stay like that for a lengthy time.

XXX

So I decided to rewrite this after coming up with nothing from the other chapter. I also realized that bad things have happened one after another to these two. I'll throw in a few fluffy, filler chapters before something else befalls upon their lives. But in all honesty, I haven't a clue where to take this.

Requests or suggestions, anyone?


	7. Chapter 7

**If you haven't done so, read chapter six again. It's been edited and changed drastically.**

It was another regular Saturday morning spent on the couch in the living room. Matthew's head rested in Francis' lap as the older of the two flipped through channels. It'd been about a week since they had made up, and so far, nothing else seemed to get in their way. Both were thankful for that, as they fully enjoyed the newfound peace in life after a drama-filled period of time. Even to the point that on the Friday of that last week, Francis bailed out on Antonio and Gilbert and surprised Matthew with reservations for their favorite fancy restaurant in town. They felt like they had been brought back to the happiest of their time together.

"I'm really glad we didn't end up separated," Matthew mused, looking up to Francis and playing with his blonde locks.

"Yes, that would've had me regretting it all my life," Francis smiled, breaking his gaze from the television to cradle Matthew's hand for a second. He really was grateful that they were enough in love to overcome such a problematic obstacle. It was almost a miracle they were still dating. The thought brought a bright grin to his face, causing Matthew some confusion.

"What are you smiling so greatly about?", he asked, his head tilting to the side, a habit that just wouldn't break.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you. I can only imagine how devastated I would be if I lost the one I loved. It may be really corny, Matthew, but I can't live without you," he shook his head with a small chuckle and glowing smile.

Francis felt a tiny slap to his chest and looked down, seeking the cause. Matthew was half-glaring at him, arms crossed. "I just might leave if you pull another one of those corny lines,"

For a second, Francis was terrified, and hurried to apologize. Matthew immediately let the guilt hit him. He really hadn't meant that. It was only a meaningless joke. Maybe it was too early in the healing stage to tease about that. He didn't consider how sensitive Francis could get. "Oh, Francis, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I was playing around. That really warms my heart, you know. But I could say the same because I need you in my life as well. Otherwise, who knows where I'd be?", Matthew reached up to stroke the wavy hair, love clearly showing in his flawless eyes. "I'm so sorry,"

Francis' state of panic eventually died away in the minutes following, but Matthew still felt bad. While Francis continued to watch whatever, Matthew brainstormed a whole bunch of different things he could do to make up for what he'd done. 'Maybe I can take him out on a date. I'm sure he'd like that. The only question is where to go? On a walk? To the movies?' As he thought, multiple plans were conjured up in his head. But in the end, he decided to take the French man out to dinner. Matthew also figured it could count as a post-anniversary dinner date, even if they already did that earlier last week.

XXX

"Hey, Francis?", Matthew called at the dinner table.

"Yes, amour?", Francis glanced up with a loving shine in his eyes.

"I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tomorrow night. As a makeup date for our anniversary," Matthew requested.

"Oh? Didn't we already do that? Don't you remember? We went to that one Italian restaurant Lovino works at?"

"No, I remember. I'm just saying, after the scare I caused you this morning, and the fact that I didn't do anything for you after all that drama weeks ago, you deserve this. Besides, you paid for the meal last time, so it's my turn. After all, it's not like I got a job to not use the money," Matthew persuaded.

"I guess you're right, but are you really sure?", Francis wanted to confirm.

"Oh come on, I can't do one single thing to show my gratitude and love?", he teased playfully.

Francis shrugged, "Okay then, if you say so. Hey, speaking of work, how's it going at the shop?"

Matthew rolled his eyes at the reference of the coffee shop he just recently began working at. "Same old, same old. Crappy boss, PMSing co-workers, and customers with attitude. Nothing different there," Matthew complained. One couldn't really say that his statement was true. In fact, most could consider the exact opposite. Matthew's boss, a nice Finnish man with an intimidating husband and adopted son, ran the shop with perfect management. He only hired the best in his mind, Matthew's three other co-workers. Elizabeta, a Hungarian girl who could be the sweetest thing, if it didn't involve Gilbert. Katyusha, another woman from Ukraine with two siblings that scared the living daylights out of most anyone near them. Lili, a young girl from Lichtenstein with a very over-protective brother who collected guns for a living. All the staff, minus Matthew, treated each other like family, making the aura of the place very homely and inviting. It made for more customers, whose hearts could be warmed by the divine service provided- unless by an unfortunate chance, their server was Matthew. He was a negative employee, dangering the reputation of the well-known shop. Tino, the boss, wouldn't fire him though. He knew that Matthew just wanted to spend more time with his boyfriend, and work only took away from it. So he accepted the fact, and just decided to give the man a lecture sometime on being not only a good personality to the customers, but also to the workers. After all, they'd only been anything but horrible to him.

Francis smiled and shook his head. "Oh, Matthew, you know that's not true. They're all very wonderful people," he half argued.

Matthew refused to submit to that. "You just haven't seen Elizabeta's husband! He's a jerk, I tell you! And Katyusha's sister, that Belarussian is always carrying knives around! Don't you know how terrifying they are?"

"What about Lili or Tino?"

"Lili's brother is so scary, always threatening men who hit on his sister with his big guns of his. Tino's husband is probably the worst though! Well, besides Katyusha's family. He's so tall and silent and he's always glaring at something!", Matthew protested.

Francis frowned a bit. "Mon cher, you described their families, not themselves. You know they're wonderful people," he scolded.

"Fine, fine. I admit it, they're all very kind. I'm happy to work there," he sarcastically said.

"You're so mean," Francis joked, pouting and kidding Matthew's forehead lightly.

XXX

I'll be honest, I'm so happy that this is done. This chapter killed me. It's so hard to write fluff. Especially when your character starts getting OOC in your rambling. I made Matthew seem tsundere at the end. Ugh, I'm so sorry. I can't write fluff for my life. Next chapter will hopefully be up next week. It'll be another filler, but it'll be their date. I'll apologize in advance for terrible writing. Thanks for reading.

Translations:

Yes, amour? = Yes, love?

Mon cher. = My dear.


	8. Chapter 8

Matthew stood before the mirror, checking for one last time of any imperfections to his outfit of choice. He wanted to look his very best for his date with Francis. After all, he was sure his boyfriend would do the same to impress him.

"Matthew? Are you ready?", said boyfriend called from down the stairs, wearing only his finest as well. The petite Canadian cracked a gentle smile. He really was thankful that they were still together, in love and all. What he told Francis the day before – that he wouldn't know where he'd be without him – was true in all senses. He really had no clue what he'd be doing without his beloved. Matthew attempted to tame that stray curl the best he could, and when he failed he sighed and met Francis downstairs. Let's just say that both parties were in awe at how stunning they each were.

"Matthew, you look amazing," Francis gawked.

Matthew blushed a deep red. "Come on, that's not true. If anyone here is well-dressed, it's you," he earned a grin in return.

"Should we get going then?", Francis asked, extending his arm for Matthew to take.

"We should," he agreed, linking his hand with Francis'.

XXX

"Oh this place is just magnificent!", Francis praised after taking his first bite of food.

The restaurant that Matthew made reservations for was probably the best they'd both been to. There were chandeliers hung around the ceiling, silk tablecloths upon tables, and elegant flower centerpieces. Not to mention the food itself. All the choices sounded delectable from the descriptions on the menu. Though they were indeed pricey, Matthew put it aside and let himself enjoy this extravagant night with Francis, who in turn was absolutely flabbergasted. He could only imagine how his lover could afford all of this.

"It is, isn't it?", Matthew responded, spooning some of his meal into his mouth.

"Oui, very much so," Francis added before getting back to his mouth-watering dinner. The rest of the evening at the restaurant was spent with small conversation. Talking about each other's day, complaining about work, gossiping about other topics in the world of celebrities. Those sorts of things were what came up. If both males were being honest with themselves, they'd admit that they wouldn't have chosen to have it any other way. By the time Francis and Matthew got home, they were worn out; only mustering up enough drive to go along with their nightly routine. Soon after jumping in bed – though not literally, due to the lack of energy – the two passed out.

XXX

"Mon cher, it's time to get up," Francis shook a very sleepy Matthew out of his slumber. Unfortunately for him, a sleepy Matthew, isn't a fairly pleasant Matthew.

"Go away!", Matthew swatted at his boyfriend's hands that attempted to tuck his wavy hair back behind his ears. The action earned an amused chuckle from Francis, loving how cute Matthew was. He decided that maybe he'd mess around a bit more, just to see where he could get with this sleepyhead.

"Oh dear! My Matthew doesn't want me anymore! How tragic!", Francis acted dramatically, placing a hand to his forehead.

"Alright, I'm up!", the little blonde groaned and lightly slapped his boyfriend's head. "Now what's so important that you wake me up at this ungodly hour?"

"Mon amour, it's already eight o'clock. How is that ungodly? Besides, you have work today, remember?"

Suddenly, Matthew shot up. "I forgot!", he exclaimed, scrambling to get dressed. Francis chuckled as he headed down the stairs. Minutes later, Matthew pecked him on the cheek and gave a quick farewell before making his exit.

'So cute!', Francis thought while he sipped at his morning coffee. 'Maybe I'll call Gil and Toni to see if they want to hang out today. I've got nothing better to do,' the French man shrugged, pulling out his phone and dialing Antonio's number.

"Hello?", he answered dazedly.

"Ah, bonjour, Antonio! I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Si, but it's fine. I needed to get up anyways. So what's got you calling at this early hour?"

"I wanted to know if you're free to hang out with me today. I was going to call Gilbert after I'd talked to you," he explained, twisting a lock of hair.

"Well in that case, I have nothing going on until later on tonight, after Lovi gets off from work. I don't know about Gilbert though, lately he seems kind of… distant," Antonio replied uneasily.

"Really, is that so? I didn't notice. Are you sure?"

"Last Friday when you skipped out, he wouldn't really pitch in during our conversation. He'd only hum whenever I'd ask him something. Not only that, but his from his eyes you could tell that he wasn't really paying attention. It was like his mind was somewhere else," the usually hyperactive Spaniard clarified.

"I see. I'll talk to him about it. We still on for today though?"

"Of course. I'll be over at nine?"

"That's a good time. See you then," Francis said before hanging up and calling Gilbert's number, just as he promised.

"Yes?", the albino picked up without the decency to even use a 'hello'.

Francis was taken aback, and it showed in his voice. "G-gilbert?"

He received a hum, just like Antonio had said.

"I was wondering, do you want to come over to my place today? Toni will be here at nine," Francis questioned, greeted with only silence from the other end. "Hello? Gil?"

"Oh, sorry. About that, I have something I have to do today. It's absolutely important and I can't miss it. So, yeah, sorry. Got to go, bye," He rushed through his description, leaving Francis a bit flustered and confused.

'Well, that was weird,' Francis mentally stated, washing his mug before leaving the kitchen to prepare the rest of his house for company.

XXX

Yeah, sorry this took so long for me to write. I had a bit of a writer's block, but I figured out what I'm going to do. Oh yeah, for those who read my Spamano fic called Not First, Not Second, I wrote a short follow-up in Antonio's POV. It's not really my best work ever and I'm not proud, but a lot of people asked for a sequel or something. Hopefully it'll be up shortly after I post this.

Thanks for following this sucky story. I'm just now realizing how predictable and cliché it kind of is. I do still plan on finishing it, as bad as it is. But I'm proud to say that I've hit 10k words for it! It's quite an achievement for me. So a big thank you to all. Love you guys.

Translations:

Oui, very much so. = Yes, very much so.

Mon cher, it's time to get up. = My dear, it's time to get up.

Mon amour, it's already eight o'clock. = My love, it's already eight o'clock.

Ah, bonjour, Antonio! = Ah, hello, Antonio!

Si, but it's fine. = Si, but it's fine.

Thanks again. You guys mean a lot to me.


End file.
